


yours is the first face that i saw

by cherrysalad



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, First Kiss, Holidays, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, as slow burn as it can be if it's 3000 words, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 06:49:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16080725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrysalad/pseuds/cherrysalad
Summary: After cutting ties with her family Veronica is miserable and alone, she wakes up and counts the hours until she can fall asleep again. Then, a girl with a jungle on her balcony befriends her and things change.





	yours is the first face that i saw

Veronica stands on her balcony as pale morning light fills the sky and glazes over the city. The sunlight does nothing to warm her, she shivers and pulls her worn silk robe tighter around her body. She keeps her eyes fixed intently on the balcony across from her, waiting patiently for the girl to emerge. She's out there every morning like clockwork, watering the lush jungle of potted plants and murmuring softly like they can understand what she's saying. She never notices Veronica, or at least never speaks to her.

This morning when the stranger steps onto the balcony there's something different about her, it occurs to Veronica that her hair is down. It's usually up in a sleek, tight ponytail but this morning it tumbles in soft blonde waves to her shoulders. Veronica bets it would be soft to run her fingers through.

… 

Veronica has to share an elevator with her one evening as she's coming home from work. It's not the ideal situation, she's wearing the ugly waitresses uniform and probably reeks of fried food, not to mention that she's exhausted and probably has bag under her eyes. 

They smile politely at each other as they step inside the cramped space. Betty is carrying a brown paper grocery bag. It feels like something's pushing on Veronica's stomach, trying to force words up her throat like vomit.

"I like your garden," ends up spilling out. "I mean I've seen you out on your balcony, and it looks really nice." The stranger smiles and warmth spreads from the pit of Veronica's stomach through her entire body. 

"Thank you," she says. "I've put a lot of effort into it. Maybe a little too much time." Veronica chuckles, maybe she's just lonely, but she doesn't want to stop talking to this girl, she doesn't want to have to go back to her dreary apartment that always feels cold and gapingly empty. 

"I'm Veronica," she says.

"Betty," the stranger replies, offering a hand to shake. Veronica takes it, and it's so warm that she doesn't really want to let go. As the elevator dings and the doors slide open Veronica's heart skitters nervously in her chest. She wants to do something, invite Betty over for coffee or dinner or really anything, but now she's walking down the hall getting further away from Veronica and the opportunity is lost.

...

The next morning Veronica gets up early. She barely slept all night, spent more time tossing and turning and staring up at the the cieling. She makes herself a cup of coffee, grabs a depleted pack of cigarettes and heads out to her balcony. She smokes the rest of her cigarettes and lets her coffee get cold before she can finish half of it as she stares down at the filthy old pool in the apartment complex's shabby courtyard. It hasn't been covered up in a long time, so it's a just a chlorinated soup of dead leaves and insects.

Betty comes out as she's on her last cigarette, her fourth that morning. She never smoked this much as a teenager, she really only did it at parties, but now it was a stress reliever and back then she didn't really have anything to stress about. Betty catches sight of her and flutters her fingers, Veronica's heart stammers and she smiles and waves back. 

…

The next time Veronica runs into Betty is down in the dark, subterranean laundry room. The gentle sounds of washing machines hums around Veronica as she puts a load of laundry into one. It took her a few tries to get a hang of the was machine thing. She never had to do her own laundry before she cut ties with her family, and if she never had she probably wouldn't ever had to. 

"Hey," comes a soft voice from behind her. "Veronica... right?" Veronica nods smiling.

"Hi," she says. "Doing laundry?" She asks, she wants to slap herself immediately after. 

"Couldn't put it off any longer," she says. "I hate this basement." Veronica nods.

"Me too," she says. "It's so dark and creepy." 

"Maybe we could do laundry together? So we don't have to be down here alone." Betty suggests. Veronica's heart leaps. 

"Yeah," she says smiling faintly. "Like laundry buddies." 

…

What was once a dreaded, boring chore becomes the best part of Veronica's week now that she has someone to do it with. And it turns out that Betty makes excellent company, just like Veronica expected. She likes listening to Betty talk in her soft, gentle voice. She talks about college where she's studying journalism, her internship at a small, local paper, different types of plants, stupid things her friends have done. 

It's the only bright spot in Veronica's entire world. It reminds her that not everyone is a burnt out lonely zombie working a minimum wage job at a fast food restaurant. There are people who have things to live for, people who have passions and futures and friends. 

One evening as they unload their warm clothing from the dryers Veronica makes an offhand remark about not having any groceries and Betty invites her over for dinner. She just nods, afraid that if she speaks it will betray how thrilled she truly is. 

"I've only really got pasta," Betty says apologetically as they step into her apartment. "I know that's not very exciting." 

"It definitely better than cheap wine and cigarettes," Veronica assures her, Betty flicks the switch and the living room is flooded with soft light. Veronica looks around. The room is about the size of her own, but it feels warmer, more comfortable. There's a small sofa with some throw pillows, a few thriving houseplants, some framed photos on the wall and a television on a stand.

"This is nice," Veronica says honestly. It feels more like home than her own apartment does. 

"Thanks," Betty laughs. "It's kind of sparse, but it's comfortable." 

"You should see my apartment," Veronica says. "It makes your place look like buckingham palace, believe me." 

"Oh I'm sure it's not that bad," Betty says. Veronica only shrugs. "Do you want to watch a movie or something on TV while I make dinner?" 

"I should help you," Veronica protests. 

"Pasta is kind of a one person job," Betty says smiling in amusement. "Just find something to watch and I'll bring dinner out when it's ready, okay?" 

"Thank you," Veronica says. Suddenly she feels very weary, like she's been walking for miles and this is the first time she's been allowed to rest. She finds some golden girls re-runs and turns her brain off until twenty minutes later when Betty reappears with two steaming bowls of buttered noodles.

"Here you go," Betty says, giving the bowl to Veronica. She eats ravenously, trying to think back to the last time she'd eaten a meal that wasn't cereal or crackers or something of that kind. It had been a week at least. She finishes hers before Betty is halfway done. "Wow." Betty said. "You were hungry." 

"It's been a while since I had a warm meal," she shrugged. Betty stares at her face, inspecting the details, searching for something. 

"Listen..." Betty says cautiously. "I'm not trying to be nosy, but are you doing alright? You seem... sad, and like you might not be taking the best care of yourself." The open, genuine way she asks makes Veronica wants to split open and spill her guts all over the place, but she knows she shouldn't bother her one friend with her sob story so she holds herself together and smiles. 

"I'm fine," she says. When they're both finished with their pasta they wash up their dishes and Veronica says, "Mind if I go out to your balcony and smoke?" 

"I'll come with you," Betty says. They sit at the small, round plastic table that barely has any room to itself among the small jungle that Betty has created. Veronica lights a cigarette and takes a slow drag. 

"You want one?" She offers. Betty hesitates a moment and then nods, gingerly taking one from the pack that Veronica holds out. Veronica flicks her lighter and lights her friends cigarette. They smoke in silence for a moment, both looking up at the starless, dark sky. 

"I used to live in this tiny little town," Betty says. "There wasn't much light pollution, so you could look up at the night sky and see the stars, millions of twinkling pinpricks of white fire." Betty closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. The moment feels melancholy and delicate. Betty shatters it. "I'm sorry," she says. "I must sound like every stupid small town girl you've ever met." 

"No," Veronica assures her. She does sound a little bit like something from a movie, but cliches exist for a reason sometimes. "I've always lived in the city, before Los Angeles it was New York. You know, I've never thought much about the stars."

"I think that's sad," Betty says, and then blushes and looks down. "Sorry. That was rude." 

"No," Veronica said. "No you're right. It is kind of sad." 

"When I was in high school there wasn't much to do in my town," Betty says "so me and my friends used to drive out to some empty field and smoke weed or drink cheap beer and look up at the stars." 

"That sounds... nice," Veronica says. And it does, it sounds so much nicer than all of the fancy parties and expensive champagne of her teenage years. 

…

Post-laundry dinners every Saturday night with Betty become another part of Veronica's routine. Who cooks alternates, it's usually just low effort meals eaten in front of the television so it hardly matters. 

"So what's for dinner tonight?" Veronica asks one afternoon as they wait for their laundry to be done. Betty freezes and her eyes widen.

"I forgot to tell you," she says. "I'm going out with my friends tonight." I'm sorry." Veronica stares at her for a minute before responding.

"Okay," she says, doing her best to mask her disappointment. "That's fine." 

"You know what? You should come," Betty says. Veronica smiles sadly.

"You don't have to invite me." 

"I know I don't have to," Betty assures her. "I want to. It will be more fun with you there. Please?" 

"Okay," Veronica gives in. "Sure." 

They meet Betty's friends at a seedy bar only a short walk from their apartment building called the White Wyrm. It didn't seem like somewhere Betty would hang out, and once she gets a look at her friends Veronica realizes they aren't what she expected either. They're all wearing leather jackets and dark colors and one even has pink hair.

"Hey Bets," a dark haired boy in a beanie greets her. "Who's this?" 

"This is my friend Veronica," Veronica smiles and waves, the group of five all greet her enthusiastically. 

"I have to say I'm excited to finally meet the famous Veronica," the girl with pink hair says. "Betty talks about you constantly." 

"Shut up Toni," Betty says rolling her eyes. Veronica just giggles. 

The rest of the night is more fun than Veronica's had in a long time, Betty's friends are hilarious and treat her like they've known her for years. They're the kind of friends Veronica sometimes fantasizes about having. 

When they finally leave the pink haired girl, Toni, tells Betty that she better bring Veronica back next time. Veronica feels warmth spread through her and she breaks into a fit of drunken laughter.

… 

Slowly and steadily their lives begin to bleed together like different colors of ink on a wet page blending into one. The laundry night dinners become every night dinners which become frequent sleepovers which become coffee in the morning and walking each other to work and Veronica takes no issue with it. 

One day Veronica gets home from work and sees Betty's cardigan on her couch and her laptop on the coffee table. Something about it chokes her up. 

She realizes Betty feels comfortable enough in her space, comfortable enough with her, that she can casually leave her things lying around. She feels closer to Betty than she has to anyone in a long time.

 

...

They get coffee at a small cafe down the street one morning and Veronica is enamoured with the photographs they have for sale. Beautiful framed prints of eerie scenes in black and white. The one that catches her eye the most is a picture of a woman in a white nightgown lying at the edge of a river. Betty orders while she admires.

"Hey," Betty says, putting a hand of Veronica's shoulder and snapping her out of her trance. "Here's your coffee." 

"Oh! Thanks," Veronica says. 

"That's a pretty photo," Betty says. "Are you into photography?" 

"I used to be," Veronica tells her. "I was always kind of obsessed with the idea of capturing a moment, you know preserving it perfectly." 

"You could start a business," Betty suggests. "Take wedding photos, that sort of thing."

"I can't afford the equipment," she says, shrugging. Betty frowns.

… 

"Are you going home for the holidays?" Betty asks. It's the week before thanksgiving and they're sitting on Veronica's couch watching the hallmark channel. 

"Uh," Veronica says. "I'm not. Are you?" 

"No," Betty answers. "I'm not on great terms with my family right now." 

"Me neither," she says. "This is actually the first year I won't spend the holidays with them."

"Me too." Betty looks down at her hands. "I'm angry at them... but it's still hard. I still miss them." 

"Well..." Veronica says, swallowing hard. "We have each other." Betty looks up and smiles, she reaches for Veronica and pulls her into a hug that's soft and warm and smells of lavender soap. 

…

They end up going to a thanksgiving gathering held by Betty's cousin Cheryl, and attended by their friends. 

"This place is beautiful," Veronica remarks as they ride the elevator up to her apartment. The building reminds Veronica of somewhere she or one of her friends might have lived back in New York. 

"Yeah," Betty says, "Cheryl's loaded." The elevator dings and they walk down the hall a short ways to Cheryl's front door. Betty knocks and it opens within seconds, revealing Toni. 

"Betty! Veronica!" She says grinning. 

"Hi Toni," Veronica says smiling.

"Come in," she ushers them into the apartment and immediately Veronica is hit by a delicious smell. Her mouth practically waters. Toni leads them into a living room, which is filled with Betty's friends and a few people Veronica doesn't recognize. 

The party is nice, Veronica is content to stay at Betty's side while she talks to her friends, occasionally adding something to the conversation. The food is probably the best thing Veronica's eaten in months and she takes multiple helpings of everything. 

After dinner when most of the guests retire to the living room Veronica goes to get a drink from the cooler in the kitchen, when she turns around the terrifying Cheryl Blossom is looking at her from across the kitchen.

"Hi," Veronica says nervously. 

"I've been wanting to have a chat with you," Cheryl tells her.

"Okay," Veronica says, trying to remain calm.

"So, you and Betty. What's going on?" 

"We're friends," Veronica says. 

"Uh-huh," Cheryl says incredulously. "I just hope you aren't leading her on, because the way she looks at you does not scream friends to me." Veronica's heart feels like it's leapt into her throat.

…

Veronica wakes up late on Christmas morning, Betty stayed the night, but the bed beside Veronica is empty. Her stomach sinks and she sits up abruptly before stumbling out of bed and into the kitchen. She's relieved to see Betty standing in the kitchen sipping coffee, she's wearing Veronica's bathrobe.

"Merry Christmas," Veronica says softly from the doorway. Betty turns around to face her and smiles. 

"Good morning," she says. "I made coffee." Veronica pours herself a mug and they drink in comfortable silence.

"I wish I had a tree or something," Veronica mutters after a while. Betty grins. 

"I'm glad you say that," she says, grabbing Veronica's hand. "Come on." Betty leads her into the living room, in the corner there's a little Christmas tree glittering with tinsel and the walls are strung with colored fairy lights. 

"Betty," Veronica breathes out. "Oh my god." She pulls her friend into a hug, the moment is safe and soft and more at home than Veronica's ever felt. 

"I got you a present," Betty says, motioning towards a gift wrapped box beneath the small tree.

"I got you something too," Veronica says. "I'll go get it." 

"Open yours first," Betty pleads, Veronica laughs and agrees, sitting cross legged on the floor and pulling the box onto her lap. It's heavy. Slowly she unwraps it. She gasps audibly when the box is revealed to her. It's a camera, a nice one.

"Betty–"

"I know it isn't all the equipment you need for a photography business, but I figured it would be a good start. I really hope–"

"I love you." Veronica cuts her off. The words aren't enough. "I'm in love with you." It slips out before she can stop it, and Veronica is hit with the truth of the statement. She's known for a long time on some level.

The girls break apart and stare at each other, both pairs of eyes wide with surprise. There's a long moment of complete silence and stillness before anyone moves or speaks. Betty takes a deep breath. "I-" Veronica begins, but suddenly Betty is moving towards her and before she can understand what's happening they're kissing. 

It takes Veronica's brain a minute to catch up, she stands frozen and rigid as a ice sculpture, and then all of a sudden Betty's warmth soaked to her core and she melts. Hands clutching in Betty's sweater, tongue running along Betty's chapped lower lip. 

When they break away they're both panting. Their faces remain close enough that Veronica's can feel Betty's warm breaths on her skin. They both break into grins and then into fits of giggles. 

"Merry Christmas," Betty says quietly. Veronica pulls her in for another kiss.


End file.
